It somehow seems strange that after two years of effortlessly remaining chaste you have reduced me to a quivering mass of human flesh in so short a time without even the slightest of earthly touches. Is it perhaps your eyes which draw me and dare me to submit to my desire and share my blessings with you, or am I just ready for something more than the barren landscape I offer myself while I travel my mind alone?

I just dont understand those things which make sense.

I imagine, time and time again, all the things my life could be if only I had the elusive and reputedly wonderful company of love. Perhaps I would rise every morning with a clear idea of the events of the day, a sense of direction, or at least warm feet. As it is I wander through my life half in this life and half in some other life I dont even know how to remember. It is the world of fantasy that transcends the logic and shape of language or memory, I think... Either that or Im just sleeping all the time and thats why I get so little done these days.

Im taking someone else's pleasure trip around the world again

So many boys to choose from in life. Some might be tall and handsome, or smart as can be with a glimmering eye to tease me, or everything I ever wanted but not quite available for what I dream.... So many boys.

Some of them walk up to me and take a seat at my table. They look into my eyes and ask questions I dont understand. "What do you do?" ... uh... when? and others, less common, but still vague and difficult to put into my head whole. Then as they talk to me they try to convince me that I really DO want children, or I really do want a house and a dog to take care of. I only laugh with them then as I imagine a whole house tearfully calling my name to notice its disrepair.

And I do so want a boy of my own. A boy to cuddle with and look at and wonder if he is what I think he is, or what he meant by that last sentence, or when he'll move in to capture my lips with his own. Yes that is the boy I want.

The one I can't quite fathom. The one with racing thoughts and abstract philosophies to tease my mind and make me envy his depth.

They say I'm too picky. I can't ask for such a miracle. But why not Lucy? Why can't I ask for someone to set my mind on fire with the desire most only find from their skin? Why cant I ask for someone who will be able to share my questions and enthusiastically look for all the answers in the world... with me? This is the actual question, I think.

Not how to choose from the many boys spread forth before me.

"sometimes you act as if you were made of glass."

"Sometimes I am"